The Muse
by euphemismsgalore
Summary: Drabbles and OneShots. Challenges welcomed. Mostly WillElizabeth. Will do other characters individually. Jan 19, 2006: Once More...
1. Don't Stop

_**The Muse:** PotC dialogue relating to Will/Elizabeth romance a little, shall we say abstractly? _

**Don't Stop**

He preserved my sight measuredly. Acquainting my form with thorough eyes.

_"Will!" came an exclamation, "Its so good to see you. I had a dream about you last night."_

Grazing every inch with his roughened blacksmith hands. He nodded to himself as if in an acknowledgment. Having seen a potential I myself hadn't known I possessed.

_"You said you gave Barbossa my name instead of yours," he raised his head to hold the sight with incredulity, "Why?"_

Aflame torridly in his view. The crimson ambers enveloped my form lapping up in eager exile.

_"But we've got to save Will!"_

A slow pain counterpoint to the burn that had accessed my untapped zeal shone in my readiness.

_"Your fiance would be wanting to know you are safe..."_

Again and again I was ladened with a known burden. Shaping me into something I was supposed to be. Something I knew not myself. Or did I?

_"Elizbeth, I should've told you everyday from the moment I met you," he weighed in anticipatory breathlessness, "I love you."_

The cooling liquid quenched with vehmence a needy heat that had persisted all along.

_"This is a beautiful sword. I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life."_

Will admired his newly finished sword with a smile accosting his lips.

_"Don't stop..."_


	2. My Will

**Preface:** First off, I am a huge "Highway to Heaven" fan and strive on double entendre. Secondly, I've tried as hard as I could to incorporate the idea the challenger have given me but it is not exact without being too verbose. I wanted emphasis on 1) Will's name and different definitions of it. 2) To signify his three most prominent traits that are often ignored, intermingled, or simplified into him just being an "earnest" simpleton. Basically I took the line that most inspired me "My pirate, my blacksmith, my Will" and went with that. Your reviews fuel my passion for writing so please, keep them coming.

**My Will **

_**Drabble Inspiration:** Shy Pirate Lass_

**Elizabeth's POV**

There is meaning beyond what we see in some words. Some words reflect in the mirror of our objective. It is true what they say, 'you only see what you want to see.'

_The man_

Its so easy to love someone and promise them love for all your **life**. Death, on the other hand is a matter all its own. Perhaps thats why they say "till death do us part." The perishing thought disgruntled me. What of the stories of undying love? Is it all so futile? Conciousness of grim disdain awakened my need to see Will. The only man that can keep me astute to daily routines and sanity. I pondered opening the door to the blacksmith's somberly without making a noise, not wanting to disturb the engrossed blacksmith slouched over a piece of metal.

_The blacksmith_

The smithy was dark as ever much appeasing the bleakness of my mood. The fire reinventing itself in a peaceful pyre like a phoenix. A distinct smell of precipitation, fire, and earth weaving in the gloom of realism. Then there was the sight of him resolute in his artistry.

I observed his determined form that would stop at nothing that his will-power won't forsake. Who better to know _will-power_ than a certain blacksmith. Keeping tactfully the feelings he knew his status wouldn't allow. Earnest, wasn't the word for him you see, he was just afraid he'd never be able to provide to me what I desire. Unbeknowest to my desire that was him.

However improper it was to desire him it had never failed to retrieve a smile but today, it wouldn't grace my lips. Today my father had made me sign his last testament giving me rights to all his fortunes. A testament or _will_ so simple a word with such high stakes of commitment, bringing comfort to my father for ensuring us financially all it had brought me was questions of mortality. Though my father, politician personified had reminded me that if it wasn't for death _time_ and _consequences_ would lose meaning.

Clang.

_The pirate_

The noise brought me back to the passionate pirate, striking away for all he was worth. _"I should have told you from the moment I met you, I love you,"_ he had said. His proclamation of love coming at the realization of death. Uncertainty of life as it seemingly hung a balance between the ultimate price for his loyalties to Sparrow and guilt. At that moment, he had proved himself to be the rebel I romantically fantasized about. A man who wasn't afraid to voice his conscience heedless to cost. A man who was not afraid to be rejected at the price of leaving a love, unrequited. A man who's name I now shall acquire.

Perhaps the ultimate of death warranted life, granting courage for the moments that live beyond us. Maybe thats life. Maybe thats love. The smile had found its way back to me as I slowly crossed the room to cover my lover's eyes teasingly. His lips curved amusedly.

"Hmm," his rough hands touched mine and he inquired in mock thoughtfulness, "is this the beautiful young lady that has been watching me work for the past ten minutes?"

"Will," I exclaimed, cheeks flushing as I swatted his arm in a very unladylike manner.

"Its alright, my love. I knew you'd come to me in due time," he cupped my cheek lovingly, lips lingering on mine as he breathed in my scent. I closed my eyes and let his lips caress mine with a fervor ambitious to our first kiss. Resounding my _testament of love_, accepting his every form. For life and yonder. My _pirate_. My _blacksmith_. My _Will_.

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**Shy Pirate Lass: **You've have made my day. That is the best compliment I've ever received! You know, I am on a mission to convert awesome writers like you into W/E shippers and take over the world and such. grins It is really unfortunate that people think they can write anything. I despise people covering up their jealousy/disdain for a "movie character" by killing them or making them out to seem like a whacko just because they can. Fan fiction is a realm of fantasy but when fragile egos refuse to comprehend their loss of credibility is when I feel sad for the desperate creatures.

I really don't mind challenges, I could write a J/A if you'd like. It might even be fun to venture into some variety for my singular track of mind. (I mostly write Orlando/Keira, Will/Liz) but people like you are fast changing my mind. :p Now please do not maroon me on rum island... on second thought...DO!

**Zoey:** Affirmative. It was a two tier drabble. Other than the second last line (which is pretty much Will identifying a possibility of it being a sword and him comparing his two passions -art and -liz) its either sword's or Elizabeth's POV. Depends on how you want to look at it. Of course every little tidbit gets followed by a scene to set the mood of what the young lovers would've felt in that particular instance. Thanks for your kind words and I wont! ;)

**Williz:** Genius? me? Nah, just learning. ;)

**Mz-Turner:** It is kind of confusing I suppose but I am glad you liked it. Thanks for reviewing.


	3. Hindsight

**Author's Note:** This is basically a rather sad/submissive look at how "Elizabeth" felt after the cave scene where Will had missed his "opportune moment."

**Drabble Inspiration:** _Jack...E _and her passionate rants about potc characters that I so love! I practically had your email open where you talked about the "cave scene" while typing this in. Multitasking is the sh!t ;) Well, in a good way I hope.

_**I like challenges and lack objective. So any ideas, however vague will be appreciated. If there is anything you want me to write about, let me know.**_

**Hindsight**

How enchanting a sight of a wave crashing in meeting the shore. Heaving its battered bosom with imprints of ripples on sandy surface. Willingly sacrificing all curiosities to know, to feel, to touch. Wanting to grasp a ground to stand on, in her cries for a last embrace. A parting kiss. A release of another kind.

Kindness of her pristine motives lost in a wither of uncertainty. It was uncharacteristic to give up in the eternal quest of longing. For that instance but, she does. She gives up with a decided quiver of unspoken whispers. The ghost of known equilibrium lingered, sweeping contrition in the rushed transcendent flow. Hanging on to the last freckles. Forever searching closure. Forever parting unrequited.

Elizabeth drew her gaze back to the boat where two of the man who've rescued her life more than once, sat in resignation. For different reasons, she knew. They will return to H.M.S. Dauntless and go back to _their lives_. She watched the sweeping wave die back in the ocean and accepted its fate.


	4. Dream

**A/N:** I've tried to keep the "sense of longing" that was felt in the last drabble as per request. I have written ample times from Elizabeth's perspective so I've attempted this from Will's perspective. A big up Coldplay's "In my place" which I listened to repeatedly while writing this.

**Drabble Inspiration:** :**_Williz:_** I just hope my meager writing reaches the intensity you desired and :**_Mz-Turner: _**Thanks for the recommendation and encouragement. You've both written William and Elizabeth so excellently that I feel honored to have drawn your attention. **_Zoey,_** I haven't forgotten you. A drabble/one-shot with all three main characters coming up. :)

* * *

**Dream**

Will's POV

Lain under the darkened blanket of shimmering night, have you ever wondered why those stars that are so obviously out of your reach, seem so close. So inviting. Has the majestic grandeur of infinite skies ever humbled you?Making you feel minute, insignificant. That is how I feel each time I look at Elizabeth Swann.

The delicate hangings in the Swann mansion a reminder to the hollow space between us. Mr. Swann had been impressed with the sword even if he had extended his gratitude to my master. I've long since accepted the fact that my place was in the shadows of others' towering presence.

"Will," exasperated a voice. A voice I doubt I'll ever tire of hearing. She'd touched her heart ever so lightly making me wonder if the pounding in my chest had reached her somehow. Cascading down the stairs she asked me eagerly, "I had a dream about you last night."

"About me?" I echoed, shocked at the revelation.

"About the day we met," smile was a beautiful expression but when adorned by her it was truly celestial, "do you remember?"

Of course she wasn't dreaming about me. How foolish an insinuation was it. She had only felt sympathy for a little orphaned boy they had pity on. "How could I forget Miss Swann?" I spoke graciously.

"Will how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth," she chided.

Living close to ethereal constance, your observation peaks in catching a wry look of a loving father, a gaze of a man who undoubtedly wants whats best for his emphatic child. And then, you let your instinct defeat the longing in your heart, "At least once more as always," you crush its hopeless vows.

"Now see at least the boy has the sense of propriety," Mr. Swann sighed relief, hastening his glaring daughter effectively stopping further exchange, "we really must be going."

"Good day Mister Turner." Her words pierced into me icily but I wondered if the pained hurt on her face was the real reason I felt the persisting guilt.

"Good day." I watched her stride off gracefully a true ambiance of her sir name.

"...Elizabeth." Ensuring of having escaped her earshot I complied to her request with ever present stars in my eyes.

You can't change the lines in your hands. You can't let the earth yield an embrace from the gazing skies. You can, however, _dream_.


	5. Freedom

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all the lovely reviews. I personally thought the last chapter wasn't as sharp as I'd have liked it but as long as you guys liked it... worth my time. _Williz_, your reviews make "my" day or night. Depending. Don't worry I am just having a "Jack" moment.;) Its too much fun. 

**One-shot Inspiration:** I am sorry _Zoey_, I kind of went on a tangent writing this. The silly game doesn't make much sense but I hope it grasps the essence of the characters. Also, I wanted to counter this fascination of a must love interest for the lovely cap'n (Jack). To me his intrigue is in this "freeing" soul he seems to posses. You know the kind we all wished we had. A rogue, a comedian, a man without worries. And no, this is not another scene from the movie.

* * *

**Freedom**

Ambers crackled at the chords of cool night breeze in a never-ending chase of their flickering counterparts. The bonfire bearing witness to the succession of an odd reunion at the Caribbean beach. A pirate, a blacksmith, and a lady; silhouettes in orange glare. The three figures spoke animately over the diatonic symphony of the perpetually crashing waves. The pirate laying casually on the sand, bottle of his precious drink inclined every so often to his mouth while the blacksmith sat alight, looking at his friend face propped on the shoulder of his lady love, whom sat with his back to him tucked in his loose embrace, "you two always cheat!"

"Ah... pirate!"

"Ah... Elizabeth!" she emphasized, as if embellishing in a known fact.

Jack tsk'ed at Will shaking his head disapprovingly, "'onestly lad, have you learned nothin' from us?"

"Oh codswellop he is not as innocent as he seems," indulged Elizabeth.

At which the pirate had arched his brow suggestively, "Aye. She would know."

"Jack!" giving a warninglook to the pirate sitting across she turned her head slightly to the mirth of presence behind her, "alright, your turn Will."

"Whats the point? You know you both cheat. I know you both cheat. May the biggest cheater win. My money's on Jack," Will joked receiving a playful swat from Elizabeth for his efforts, "only because he does it for a living darling," he amended, softly pecking her cheek. Giving her a look which would be described centuries later as, _being whipped_.

Rolling his eyes at the affectionate couple the captain mumbled sarcastically, " 'int 'e a perceptive one."

"Alright, lets play another game," Elizabeth suggested, inciting a collective groan from both men, "what? You two have a better idea?" she challenged, "didn't think so. How about someone picks a word and the next person say the first word that comes to their mind--"

"Good I'll start," Jack interrupted, "_irritating_," he gritted,trading a mischievous grin with the younger man whose expression said 'not-falling-for-that'.

"I can think of a rudely interrupting individual," Elizabeth caught their little exchange, not a moment too soon.

Will's eyes narrowed in a scold, "Elizabeth," but Jack's cocky grin was short lived as Will finished, "I thought it was supposed to be one word."

Elizabeth giggled, "Jack."

"Tha's Cap'n Cap'n Jack Sparrow to ye. And ye," he corrected, giving Will a pointed look, "...ye traitor."

"Child," Will supplied supposedly still playing the game although his amused grin said otherwise.

"Eunuch," replied Jack.

"Drunkard," Will piped.

"Rum!" Jack spaced out with a pleased smile, taking a long swig from the bottle in hand. The insult to Will's dismay- lost on him. Elizabeth though smirked teasingly, "...burning," sprouting a spray of the said liquid from the pirates mouth.

Jack eyed her menacingly, "devil-woman."

"Hey! I said one word," she repeated, still grinning. Uncharistically bent on following rules if only to push buttons.

"Tha' would 'ave ta do until Satan finds 'is..." he pondered, forming a lewd interpretation with the sway of his hands, "womanly parts."

Will albeit enjoying the crimson heat the insinuation prompted on Elizabeth's cheeks, came torescue, "Woman...hmm. Passion," seeing as he's only observed one woman closely other than his mother. And there was no other word to better describe her. At least to him. He tightened his grip around her waist lovingly.

Elizabeth snuggled further back into Will's form as she spoke wondrously, "Passion- Love." Mindful of her fortune in experiencing the sheer delight of finally having her love returned, she beamed in its ardor.

"Love." Jack picked up the word. His eyes sparkling with a distant landscape yet to scan, adventures yet to meet, challenges yet unknown, without a second thought he related the word he found best suited, "Freedom."

He was a 'Sparrow' after all.


	6. Home

**Home**

Elizabeth's POV

He is sitting alone on a steep cliff scanning the horizon ashe always does when he wants to reminisce. Those perturbed brown orbs I love so much are transfixed in a distance. His upper body is half lifted supported by his elbows while the unruly length of his hair fly fervently to wind's devices.

The sea is noisy with the bustle of the harbor directly beneath us: the calls of seagulls in search of food, the cry of a babe, coughing of a sickly old man, yelling indifferences of a bargaining women, the usher of sea in bathing the shore.

He is oblivious of it all because today was the day he lifted the curse some years past. Today, he is lost again in the throes of guilt. Again, he is suspecting himself of being his own father's murderer. Even today he laments his lack of foresight in breaking the Aztec curse. For not thinking the consequences his father will face. The curse may have kept him alive in the deep abyss of his eventual reprieve. Though at the time it seemed like the right choice. The only choice, even.

He never tells me with so much words but doesn't deter my studious curiosity either. I have since, mesmerized the open book that is Will Turner page to page in the years past. The clear torrents in his eyes that he dare not shed reflect his hurt ever so bluntly.

Feeling a bit intrusive yet- needed I reluctantly settle myself beneath the incline of his upper torso,caressing his forehead under my chin. He doesn't make any sudden movements from the bearing as if he was aware of my presence all along.

No words pass between us as we sit gazing at the line dividing sea from sky.

Assurances are passed as waves of tribulation are surfaced within us.

So much can be said when we don't feel judged.

It is amazing what a difference only one person can make. You may feel completely alone in a crowd but the presence of that one person, makes you feel enriched. They make it all worthwhile. And when they are by your side you feel like you can go through anything.

The comfortable silence was broken by a deep grunt from my beloved. He looked up into my eyes. The sides of his mouth lifting, forming a pleased curve. "We should head back home."

Searching for possible signs of disarray and finding none I replied smiling back, "We should."

Hand in hand, we left the busy harbor.

Sometimes, the best of conversations happen when we don't talk... at all.


	7. Once More

Written for Willabeth Challenge

at LiveJournal (dot) com (forward slash) community (f - slash) Willabeth

**A/N:** I've started a Willabeth (or Canan FictionOnly) contest site wherehopefully good stories written for challenges or nominated by yourself or yourpeers will be awarded (with a banner) andarchived on this site (willabeth – dot – 50webs – dot - com) Not functioning yet. The stories can be nominated (or written as per challenges) over at LJ and POTC forums (www -dot- fanfiction -dot- net -slash- ft -slash- 922147 - slash- 8768 - slash- 1 -slash-) here on ff. I know there are some amazing writers here so lets get writing. The more of you that participate the more fun it will be.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine

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**Once more as always... **

Young Will Turner often pondered what was so attractive about his precocious playmate Miss. Swann. Was it her daunting beauty, albeit the pimples on her cheeks? Was it her intelligence that sparked through the hazel depths of her eyes? Was it her willfulness and determination that never recognized any bounds? Was it her contradicting nature graceful and unladylike at the same time? Was it the way she rushed adventure in his life when they sneaked away in the middle of her dance lessons? Was it her utter disregard for the superfluous hierarchy that persisted in the English society as she ran free and wild to the docks with him? He never could tell which of these facets he admired so much even to the point of intimidation. All he knew was the softness of her lips on his dry ones when she thanked him for helping her escape a rather dull afternoon of repeating the same dance steps with her governess. He will wonder and be amazed, once more as always...


End file.
